


Malignant, Masquerade, Meritorious

by spoilerings



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, M/M, Really so much fluff and happiness, Rosie-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilerings/pseuds/spoilerings
Summary: To be fair, the relationship between the two Baker Street boys is far from platonic and has been crossing into an entirely different plane of reality for quite some time, but that's not a story for today.No, this story is about Rosie.





	Malignant, Masquerade, Meritorious

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote like a paragraph of this after season 4 ended and I literally just wrote the rest in the last hour, so this is very much just simple, self-indulgent fluff. Hope you enjoy :)))

After everything sort of dies down - although things never really die down for Sherlock and John - Sherlock suddenly finds himself living a life he'd never expected he would live. He didn't really notice it happening. He just looks around the flat one day and realizes that everything has fallen into place. Everything is clean and childproofed, and although that meant getting rid of his in-home lab a few weeks ago, he's been noticing that the urge to tinker and dissect and observe for long periods of time has slowly dwindled. John has moved back in, which he says is only for the convenience of another free caretaker for Rosie (Mrs. Hudson fully believes this), but he and Sherlock both know that he misses regular cases and blogging and domestic life and assumptions of homosexuality. To be fair, the relationship between the two Baker Street boys is far from platonic and has been crossing into an entirely different plane of reality for quite some time, but that's not a story for today.    
  
No, this story is about Rosie.    
  
Little Rosie just thrives on all the attention she gets. John and Sherlock positively spoil her on a daily - sometimes hourly - basis, whether it's through feeding her only the palatable mush, buying her way more toys than she could possibly even want, or holding her for all hours of the day simply because she starts pouting the moment she is put somewhere. Although she can't yet speak coherent English, she knows full well what she wants and the precise way to obtain it, and she is completely aware that John and Sherlock are both coiled firmly around her finger.    
  
This manifests itself into, one day, Sherlock lounging on the sofa and thinking about something-or-other when Rosie suddenly makes a discontented noise from where she's sat on the floor amongst building blocks, crinkling animals, and at least four teething rings. Sherlock immediately stands up, still clearly in a trance, and swoops Rosie into his arms before promptly returning to lie on the sofa and sitting Rosie on his chest. This change of seating arrangement has definitely skyrocketed her mood, and she reaches out to touch Sherlock's face, smooshing around his cheeks before pinching his lips with two of her tiny fingers.    
  
This brings Sherlock's focus back to the present moment on Earth, and he says to her, "Yes, it is a bit wonky, isn't it? But we can't choose or change the vessels we're put into, no matter how bony the faces are or how annoyingly dependent they are upon sleep."   
  
Rosie just giggles in reply, as if she understood every word he just said.    
  
Just then, the doorknob starts to wiggle around and John emerges seconds later with three grocery bags on each arm, and a slight scowl on his face. "I called you and texted four times a minute ago to ask you to open the door, I know you never answer the bell or pay attention when someone knocks, but-"   
  
John's clear disappointment in Sherlock vanishes when he sees the latter lying on the sofa with Rosie perched on his chest and running her fingers all over his face. He secretly decides that he was fine opening the door himself, and smiles a bit.    
  
"As you can see now, I'm very much occupied," Sherlock says while still facing Rosie. He turns his head to meet John's line of sight, and smiles, 30 percent his patented smugness, and 70 percent genuine happiness to see John. "Rosie's inspecting the face, in detail." He turns back to her. "It seems as if she's finding much important information."   
  
John replies from the kitchen, "Is that so? Has she identified the chronic narcissism yet, or is that above her pay grade?"   
  
"Oh, she cottoned on to that weeks ago. It's just too bad her lips haven't been able to say any more than  _ da _ . "   
  
Because she lives primarily in a household with two men of above-average intelligence, it has been suspected that Rosie would be very early with everything - crawling, speaking, walking, writing. Despite this stimulating environment, she has turned out to be a bit of a late bloomer. John and Sherlock don't think much of it; she's definitely been through some trauma. And anyway, they both know she is incredibly intelligent and complex, and she doesn't need to conform to society's standards of communication and development.    
  
"You'd think your incessant bouts of babbling would have-"   
  
John is again interrupted when Rosie starts humming a bit, with her lips pressed tightly together. It sounds like an M. He quickly abandons the remaining groceries to watch the event unfold, and Sherlock is smiling brightly at Rosie, trying to coax a sound out of her.    
  
She, of course, immediately responds with "Mmmmmmmuh! Muh-muh!"   
  
John starts beaming, and Sherlock's smile widens as he asks, "What are you trying to say, Rose? Malignant? Masquerade? Meritorious?"   
  
"Muh! Muh! Muh!"   
  
John joins in, pressing, "What is it darling?"   
  
"Mum!"   
  
Suddenly, the mirth radiating from both John and Sherlock is dissipating, and they're both left in confusion and sadness. Sherlock looks over at John and sees a face of sorrow: for Mary, for himself, and for the little girl who lost her mother too soon. They're both lost in thoughts of  _ what if she's endured too much _ and  _ what if she thinks her mum is coming back _ and  _ what if she is never able to get over her loss  _ when Rosie giggles.    
  
They both look directly at her, and she giggles once more before returning her hands to Sherlock's cheeks and again exclaiming, "Mum!"    
  
She enthusiastically pats - read: slaps - Sherlock's face to make sure her point has been thoroughly brought forth.    
  
Sherlock and John share another brief moment of confusion before John is smiling, and then laughing loudly and brightly, more than he's laughed in a very long time. Sherlock, too, smiles a massive smile and lets out a few chuckles as he reaches up to ruffle Rosie's soft blonde hair. Leave it to little Rosamund Mary to outsmart the both of them and remind them just how much happiness truly resides at 221B Baker Street.    
  
John smirks a little before inquiring, "Well what do you think, mummy, is it time for dinner?"   
  
~


End file.
